Do Metal Hearts Beat?
by CitrusGod
Summary: Ivan Braginski is but a shell of a man, without the love of his life. Alfred has been dead for 2 years, and Ivan, an inventor and creator of androids, is left hopeless. Or perhaps there is a chance, to regain his love back, in a picture perfect android of his own creation. Still, attempting to play God for someone you love, always has consequences. For himself, and the creation.


**Do Metal Hearts Beat?**

* * *

 **Chapter 1:**

 **2 Years Later**

~.~.~

* * *

Alfred F. Jones-Braginski, died 2 years ago.

To the date.

The date itself, was July 5th, 2082. Besides the fact that it was the anniversary of Alfred's death, it was just a day after his birthday. To the man that held the days both in high regards, and true contempt. Both days were felt like God had punished him twice, remembering the late lover's birthday was just 18 hours before, without the birthday boy to actually enjoy it, and then reliving the nightmare that occurred just hours later, for the man reliving them himself.

Said man, was Ivan Braginski, the late lover's still living husband. Well, widower now.

Ivan Braginski was many things though.

A grand inventor.

A hard worker.

An ex Russian militant.

A gentleman.

But mostly, at least these days, a drunk.

How could he not be when his soulmate was gone forever?  
Many attempts at getting clean were out of the picture, seeing as one way or another, he returned to the bottle like a child to the open arms of their mother.

As of now, as the clock struck 3:35 AM, July 5th. Ivan had been planted in his worn chair for hours, empty vodka bottles around him, and a half empty one just barely in his hand. The hammered Russian stared ahead, at the lit fireplace. Above, on the mantle, having not been touched for 2 years, were pictures of Alfred.

His Alfred, smiling, laughing...alive. Alive like he could just crawl out of the picture, and into the arms of his lover once more...like the last 2 years of hell were nonexistent.

Oh, what a wonderful drunk man's dream.

Especially for Ivan.

He hummed to himself as that such thought crossed his inebriated mind. It brought just a hint of a smile to his face. But only a hint. Ivan never smiled, really. Not truly, anyway.  
Even as he just barely smiled, it was dashed with oncoming memories of July 5th, 2 years before.

* * *

 _Alfred said he'd be back either tonight, or tomorrow morning._

 _Ivan trusted him, and he trusted his friends, should his little golden haired angel get too drunk to really walk. It was his birthday party, afterall. Alfred insisted, because his good friends, Gilbert and Mattias, had thrown it for the American's 23rd birthday. It didn't take much begging from him for Ivan to release him into the world. Well, not without at least a call or two. Ivan worried too much for his younger lover. Alfred had repeatedly told him he was the literal personification of 'Mother Russia'. It was a cute joke that irked Ivan to no end. He didn't have the heart to tell Alfred to stop though, he always said it with a large smile on his face, followed with a sweet laugh, after he'd say it. It even made Ivan smile to always hear such irritating play._

 _Oh how he would miss it._

 _Ivan had to work late that night, having celebrated with Alfred hours before, and leaving the American very satisfied with his gifts. A nice brunch at a fancier burger joint along with a visit to various parks and attractions, along with afternoon sex, went a good, long way, for Alfred's birthday. Despite it, Ivan couldn't avoid work. But Alfred seemed satisfied to let him go, hanging out with his friends in the meantime while Ivan finished his night._

 _Although, he didn't count on his night lasting so long, until he realized it was almost 4 in the morning, and he was the only one in the building. Ivan thought he might as well finish up and head home. Just a few bolts here and there, and-_

 _Ivan was interrupted by the shrill ringing of his cellphone. Jumping quietly, he sighed, picking it up without looking at the caller ID._

 _"Hello, Ivan Braginski of Androi-"_

 _"Ivan, get over here!" a loud, and terrified German voice suddenly shouted._

 _Ivan drew back, blinking a few times and pulling the phone back._

 _"Gilbert, calm yourself, is something wrong?" Ivan asked, calm as ever._

 _"I-Ivan, you have to get her, near my house!" he said quickly._

 _Ivan furrowed his brows._

 _"But why? Calm yourself, Gilbert." he said._

 _"Ivan, its Alfred! He got hit by a car, he's not moving!" Gilbert shouted._

 _And with those words, Ivan's life would change, and time would freeze. Not enough to stop Ivan from running out of his work building and into his car. He'd never sped so fast to someone's house. But by the time he got there, He floored the brakes once he saw flashing red and blue. Without a moment's hesitation, Ivan had gotten out of the car, and moved his way quickly through the crowd, shoving people, really, shouting for Alfred, or any confirmation of Alfred. He'd received no answer. But he did get to the front of the crowd, watching as the paramedics, both human and android, picking up a gurney. The subject on the gurney, was covered in a white sheet from head to toe, disgusting red stains inking near the abdomen and head. Ivan's world had frozen again, and all he remembered, were 3 police officers apprehending him, to keep him from getting to the ambulance, as it drove off to the hospital._

 _It was 3:35 AM._

* * *

After that, the rest was a blur, for now. The rest would, no doubt, come back at a later date. Still, that part brought the Russian to quiet sobs, wracking his large body. Again, how could it not? Everyday, each year, Ivan would somehow remember a moment of that dreadful, awful night, or before it all happened, or after it did. Either prospect was equally painful.

All Ivan could do, was grip his bottle tighter and sob quietly in his other hand, because it was all he could do. Nothing could availiate this type of pain. Vodka could just numb it, or rip open the wound again and again. As much as Ivan wanted to escape it, he couldn't. The pain was there, always, no matter what he did.

No amount of therapy, drugs, or alcohol could help him. He'd long lost his outside support from any friends he had, if he had any. His sisters just spoke to him via letters now...

This was no life.

Then again, this was his life, without Alfred.

Having the man he'd loved so deeply, suddenly ripped away from him, never to be given back again.

Those lingering thoughts caused the Russian to stumble up, and to his bedroom, away from the dusty and untouched mantle. Just to get away from that sickly sweet smile from the golden-haired man in the photos. He couldn't stand to look at them any longer now. He'd just wait until a better time tomorrow, to look at them.

As painful as it was, he didn't want to forget Alfred's face. It being all he had of Alfred, aside from some leftover items, Ivan couldn't stand to miss a day of looking at the photos of a time long since past, even just glance.

But after a while, when it grew too painful, Ivan would leave them to collect dust again.  
He stumbled down his hallway, kicking a few empty bottles along the way, until he managed to reach his bedroom. Swinging the door open, Ivan stumbled forward, falling onto the comfortable piece of furniture. He let out a long drawn out sigh, once he landed. He dropped the half empty bottle a long time ago, in favor of this soft bed. Slowly, he crawled up the bed, laying on his side of the bed. Alfred's side remained untouched though. Being completely hammered, Ivan still remembered to keep that side of the bed, perfectly clean and undisturbed, waiting for the other half of the two inhabitants of the bed, to lay down. Of course, that would never happen.

After a few tosses and turns, Ivan managed to get under the covers, body sprawled and breath heavy. He blearily peered up to his nightstand, seeing the clock. Hazily, he read the time, sighing heavily. He reached over though, grabbing the one thing that mattered: a golden wedding band. While Ivan still had his on his finger, the other wedding band had its place on his nightstand, where Ivan could take it every night, and kiss it goodnight. He did just that, giving the piece of gold a feathery kiss, before putting it back on the nightstand.

By then, Ivan was already falling asleep.

It wouldn't take too long until his quiet breaths filled the room, and his head filled itself with dreams, or nightmares, about his Alfred once more.

...

2 whole years of this...a repeated cycle, only worsening on these two days.

And to Ivan...it would never get better.

* * *

 _ **AN: Hey look, another fanfiction.**_

 _ **Figured it might help to take a break from 'Between Heaven and Hell' for a bit. I'm not saying its going on another hiatus, I'm still writing it, I just figured I'd put some time into starting one of my other fanfics for my favorite Hetalia pairing in the world.**_

 ** _This'll be ongoing, of course, because, well, I love the idea. I actually roleplayed a of bit of it with my boyfriend, so I do have the first few capters thought of, and a set plot in mind, so I figured 'fuck it'. Equally sad story to the already sad story I'm writing._**

 ** _Soooo yeah. You guys enjoy, I'll probably mention it in the next chapter of 'Between Heaven and Hell' though, just so others could find it._**

 ** _Whelp, I think this is a good first chapter, I'm gonna hit the hay._**

 ** _~Sunny_**


End file.
